


Eternal Verities

by vix_spes



Category: Wives and Daughters - Elizabeth Gaskell
Genre: Awkward Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Getting Together, Revelations, Self-Doubt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 02:41:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17051525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vix_spes/pseuds/vix_spes
Summary: "I think him a prince among men."Molly falls in love with Roger Hamley and discovers herself - and love - in the process.





	Eternal Verities

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JuneLoveland](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuneLoveland/gifts).



“I love him as a sister. I think him a prince among men.”

“Well yes, but even you must acknowledge that he’s plain and he’s awkward. You know I like pretty things and pretty people.”

Even as the words had tumbled from Molly’s lips as she lay in Cynthia’s bed, arms around her step-sister, she knew that they weren’t the whole truth. Whilst there was no doubt that Roger was truly a prince among men, had always been her champion from when she was younger, she could no longer claim to love him as just a sister.

He was so much more than that.

Molly had never really thought too much about love. She had always been a practical person rather than a fanciful one, taking very much after her beloved papa in that respect. She knew that, while he had loved her mother, he had married for the second time because he felt – as did the women of Hollingford – that Molly needed a female presence in her life. Molly herself had never really thought too much about love, never envisioned being married herself. But then Cynthia had swept into her life like a veritable whirlwind with her myriad love affairs and flights of fancy.

Despite knowing them for years, Molly had never considered the possibility of either of the Hamley brothers as a potential husband until Cynthia arrived in Hollingford and captured the attention of both Osborne and Roger. Molly had never thought of them in anything other than a fraternal manner. Osborne had always been the poet whose work she had read, who she had discussed Byron with while Roger appreciated her scientific bent, finding a willing student in the not normally feminine pursuit of science. Older brothers indulging a younger sister, Molly taking the place of the sibling who had been lost too young.

Yet, as the brothers started spending more time at the Gibson home, Molly became more aware of them as more than brothers, but as men.

As time went by, Molly couldn’t help but bemoan her lot in her life. She had come to terms with having a prettier, more vivacious, outgoing step-sister relatively early in their acquaintance and she loved Cynthia dearly. Yet, Molly did not know how easily she would be able to come to terms with the fact that the man she was in love with was engaged to, and in love with, her step-sister.

She supposed that she would have to grin and bear it, just as she had before where Cynthia was concerned.

~*~

“Roger Hamley has more to think about. Molly Gibson is a very pretty, good little country girl but Roger Hamley has a glittering career ahead of him. If she’s trying to trap him into marriage, it will be a disaster.”

As Lord Hollingford and Lady Harriet disappeared into the maze and out of earshot, Molly’s thoughts were whirling. Not feeling able to comport herself with any of the other guests, she made her way off the manicured lawn and further into the grounds, ending up crumpled under a tree. Was that truly what people thought of her? That she was trying to trap Roger into marriage now that Cynthia had broken things off with him and was marrying Mr Henderson. Why would they think that? Molly had barely seen him since his return from Africa. Indeed, their conversation just now on the lawn had been their first of the weekend and the first since he had left England.

As she hid away from the world, her thoughts racing almost too fast for her to make sense of them, Molly couldn’t help but remember another conversation with Cynthia that had taken place in the sanctuary of Cynthia’s bedchamber. One that had happened just after the truth had finally come out and Cynthia had written to Roger, breaking things off.

_“Roger will marry you, Molly. You’d suit him far better than I would have done.”_

_“Cynthia, don’t! Your husband this morning, mine tonight. What do you take him for?”_

_“A man. If you won’t let me call him changeable, I’ll call him consolable.”_

Molly didn’t want Roger to be consolable. She didn’t want to trap him into marriage. She knew how hard Roger had worked for this expedition, for Lord Hollingford and the Geological Society to take notice of him. She knew that he had used money from his fellowship and from this to support the Hamley Estate, how proud the Squire was of him. After everything that the family had been through, Molly didn’t want to ruin that for them.

She loved Roger – and the Squire - far too much for that.

Molly had long ago resigned herself to the fact that, while she had moved on from seeing Roger as a brother, he would forever see her as a sister. At least, she had until this weekend. Molly knew that she was inexperienced in love, that she perhaps always focused on what felt right more than what was socially expected, but there had been moments this weekend where she had felt as though Roger’s gaze was lingering on her. Various inflections in their conversation just now where Roger had sounded almost strange, as though he was holding back from something or there was something that Molly was unaware of. She didn’t dare dream that it could be anything so monumental as him returning her love.

And she had agreed to visit Hamley Hall. How could she go now? What were people going to say? She desperately wanted to go, to see the Squire and Aimee, but the thought that people believed she was angling for Roger?

Why was love so complicated?

~*~

Visiting Hamley Hall after her time at The Towers was the strangest time that Molly had spent there, even taking into consideration the times when both Mrs Hamley and Osborne had died. She felt horribly aware of herself, of every interaction that she had with Roger. Aimee didn’t help, convinced as she was that Roger didn’t think of Molly as a sister. Molly couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to live here all the time, to be part of this family in a way that she wasn’t already. But then she remembered what she had heard Lord Hollingford say at The Towers, what her mama had said about people in the village talking and she reined herself. It was difficult. Roger was his usual solicitous, pleasant self and he couldn’t understand why Molly was so withdrawn when compared to her previous visits. Boxes of specimens were arriving daily from Africa and Molly was desperate to spend all of her time with Roger, looking at them and hearing him talk but she simply didn’t know how to act around him anymore.

And then little Osborne came down with scarlet fever and Roger had gifted her a bouquet of flowers, asking her to return one to him.

Try as she might to quench it, that little ember of hope deep in Molly’s breast burned that little bit brighter at Roger’s actions.

~*~

Her mama and Cynthia would be horrified that Molly was stood in the centre of Hollingford’s market square in the pouring rain, the fabric of her blouse made sheer and clinging to her frame, but Molly had had to try. She couldn’t have lived with herself if Roger had returned to Africa without trying to see him. Part of her regretted that, yet again, her life was playing out in front of the residents of Hollingford again and after all of the work Lady Harriet had done to help her. If she was lucky, people would be taking shelter inside from the weather and thus too busy to pay attention to her. Too busy to see her humiliation, as she chased after Roger Hamley in vain. As the London coach disappeared around the corner, Molly raked a hand through her sodden and bedraggled curls. She was too late.

And then, from behind her, came that most beloved of voices.

“I couldn’t go. I couldn’t go without… Molly, do I still have any chance with you?”

“Yes.” Molly was incredulous. Was this really happening? Her dearest wish coming true?

“I’ve been such a fool, I know. Yes?” Her lips quirked up as Roger made an aborted step forward, remembering halfway through the movement that he wasn’t allowed to come closer. So near but so far.

“Yes.”

“I had so much I’d prepared to say to you. How I should have seen it was you I truly loved. Even before.” Roger looked vulnerable momentarily, almost disbelieving Molly’s words and needing confirmation. “You mean it?”

“Yes.” Why could she not say anything other than yes? She may not have such clever conversation as Cynthia, but she never struggled this much to find something to say.

“I mustn’t come any closer, I promised your father.”

“I know.” Molly loved both her papa and little Osborne dearly, but she couldn’t help but be frustrated at both of them; the little boy for his illness and her papa for his decree that she have no interactions with the occupants of the Hall. Judging by the set of his mouth, Roger was just as frustrated and that consoled her a little.

And then the words left his lips. Words that Molly had never dreamed that she would ever hear.

“Molly, dear Molly. Will you be my wife?”

Molly had absolutely no doubt that Roger hadn’t proposed to Cynthia like this; her beloved sister would have been scornful but then Molly wasn’t Cynthia.

“Yes. Yes, I will. Yes.”

Molly wasn’t entirely sure where they went from here but, if she had Roger by her side, she had no doubt that they would make it work.

~*~

Molly couldn’t help but feel a little trepidation as the carriage started down the approach to The Towers and couldn’t help but fuss with her dress a little, crumpling the fabric in her nervous fingers. She had been here numerous times before, but it had never been in this particular guise before, that of fiancée to Mr Roger Hamley, famed explorer and man of science. Every other time she had visited, it had been as Claire’s future step-daughter or Lady Harriet’s favourite. It was incredibly sweet that Lady Harriet wanted to congratulate them on their engagement, but Molly couldn’t help but wish that she had chosen a way that do that wasn’t a house party. Molly truly didn’t wish to be ungrateful, but she really disliked the idea of being the centre of attention; that was more Cynthia’s thing than Molly’s. Still, at least she would have Roger by her side. As though he sensed her trepidation, he took her hand in his and raised it to his lips, pressing a reassuring kiss to the back of it.

“There is nothing for you to worry about, my dearest. If you truly hate it, then we can return back to the Hall; you know how much my father adores having your around. He has always loved you as a daughter, from the first time that you came to us, and he cannot wait for you to become his daughter officially.”

Molly laughed at that, knowing that every word from Roger about his father was true. Squire Hamley had made absolutely no secret of his delight when they had announced their engagement, even going so far as to say that he was glad that Cynthia had broken things off. The Squire had been invited to this weekend gathering but, while he acknowledged what Lord Hollingford had done for Roger, he still disliked the Cumnor family on principle and had refused the invitation, much to Molly’s disappointment. While her own father would be there, cases permitting, she would have liked having the Squire there in her corner. And then she realised what Roger had said first.

“We can’t just leave! That would be so rude after all the trouble that Lady Harriet has gone to…”

Roger chuckled, the sound sending a thrill through Molly, and tucked her hand into his arm. “Well, let’s just see how things go. Just remember that everyone here is happy for us and wishes us well.”

(~*~)

To Molly’s relief, the whole event wasn’t as terrible as she had envisaged. That wasn’t entirely unsurprising. For all of her forthrightness and slight tendency to railroad people into doing what she wanted, Lady Harriet Cumnor was rather sensitive when it came to Molly, and so things weren’t as overwhelming as events at The Towers tended to be.

During the afternoon, Molly found herself separated from Roger as he was squired around and shown off by Lord Hollingford to a variety of gentlemen, who all wanted to hear about his time in Africa. For her part, Molly found herself being questioned as to the wedding; where she intended to buy her trousseau, whether she would be married in the parish church and where they intended to hold the wedding breakfast. It was enough to make Molly’s head spin. The last question was the only one that Molly could answer as the Squire had insisted that they hold the wedding breakfast at Hamley Hall. Whilst it was overwhelming, the women were asking so many questions that a lot of the pressure was taken away from Molly. And that was even without Lady Cumnor voicing her opinions.

The evening was harder to cope with.

At dinner, Molly was seated by Roger, but they were both accosted on all sides by people wanting to ask questions either about Africa or the wedding. And then there were several women, neither of whom Molly knew that well, who couldn’t resist making a jibe about the fact that Molly was the second choice. A reminder that Roger had been engaged to Cynthia not all that long ago, as if Molly could forget it. It may have been one simple question, but it fed that seed of doubt that had been at the back of Molly’s mind. She had not been blind to the approving – and speculative – looks that Roger had received from several of the women this evening. Molly, only newly accustomed to love, was not the most secure of women and couldn’t help but doubt her place at Roger’s side.

It didn’t help that, when they moved to the ballroom for dancing, Roger was highly in demand as a dance partner, more so than Molly herself. Finally, Roger came to take his seat at Molly’s side.

“I feel like I’ve barely been able to see you this evening.”

“Now you know how I felt seeing you with Sir Charles Morton.” Roger’s tone was jovial, but Molly was already sufficiently worked up that it didn’t register with her.

Not caring how it may appear to the other guests, Molly tugged Roger out of the ballroom and to an out of the way spot.

“Why are you marrying me, Roger? I’m not like Cynthia, not like any of those women in there. Is it because you say your family is indebted to me?”

“Molly!” Roger’s tone was almost scandalised. “How can you say such a thing? I am well aware that you’re not like Cynthia, like those women in there. You, Molly Gibson, are one in a thousand. I have never met a woman like you. I’m not a poet like Osborne … was, and I don’t have the pretty words that he would be able to put together as easy as breathing. However, the one thing that you should never doubt is how much I love you.”

Roger took Molly’s hands in his hands, “I told you once, but it bears repeating. I am not marrying you because my family is indebted to you. I am marrying you because I love you. I still cannot believe how blind I was, not realising that my true feelings for you almost until it was too late. Now, please, will you trust that I am not interested in any of those women in the slightest and come dance with me. I would very much like to spend some time with my fiancée this evening.”

~*~

“Man learns what he needs to know.”

Molly walked up to her husband just as he finished translating the proverb, allowing him to tuck her hand into the crook of his elbow and hold her close. It was a welcome reprieve from Cynthia’s admonishment about how Molly shouldn’t be wearing an old dress to a garden party now that she was mistress of Hamley Hall. Of course, Cynthia’s own outfit was brand-new and had been bought at great expense to Mr Henderson’s purse.

There had been similar admonishments at Molly’s wedding, from both Cynthia and her mama. Neither woman could understand why Molly didn’t want to go to London for her trousseau, expressing horror at even the vaguest possibility of her using Miss Rose’s. They kept saying that it was the done thing and now that she was going to be mistress of Hamley Hall, her wardrobe needed to change accordingly and what better time to do that than her wedding. Molly’s mama had even tried to convince her papa to speak to Molly. He had done so but only to inform her that, if she wished to go to London for her trousseau, he would happily pay for it however, if she wanted something different then that was her choice. Molly could have burst into grateful tears at his words; he had always understood her. She had then gone straight to Lady Harriet and enlisted her help in engaging the services of the seamstress who had made Molly’s dress for the first weekend she spent at The Towers.

The end result had been precisely what Molly wanted. Simple, tasteful and elegant. Just as the wedding itself. The service was held in Hollingford church and Molly’s papa gave her away. Her veil had been gifted to her by the Squire and had been worn by his beloved wife at their wedding, while the flowers of her bouquet were daisies and red roses, gathered by Roger himself from the Hamley Estate and delivered on the morning of their wedding. Her mama and Cynthia may not think much of the whole event, but the expression of love and joy on Roger’s face had Molly’s heart full to bursting and she felt as though her incandescent joy was visible to the entire congregation.

When she pulled herself from her memories, Lord Cumnor was still talking to her husband, no doubt about the upcoming expedition, but Molly didn’t really pay too much attention. Instead, she contented herself with nestling close to her husband and enjoying the pleasant rumble of his voice as she allowed her thoughts to drift to the future. If Cynthia had been so horrified that Molly was wearing an old dress, then Molly wondered what her reaction would be when they revealed the news that, when Roger resumed his expedition to Abyssinia, he would not be alone as Molly would be accompanying him. At long last, after years of reading books that Roger recommended and the letters and drawings that he had sent back from his previous trip to Africa, Molly would finally get to experience it all herself. Her step-mother would undoubtedly have an apoplexy, as would Miss Phoebe. Molly’s beloved papa had been unsurprised when they had broken the news, while the Squire had been disappointed at losing two of his favourite people but had loudly proclaimed that this was why little Molly was the perfect wife for Roger, bringing a bright blush to Molly’s cheeks. A blush that had deepened when the Squire had proclaimed that they would have to get the exploring done so that they could return home and give him more grandbabies to fuss over.

As embarrassing as it had been at the time, Molly couldn’t deny that she wanted a family with Roger. He was wonderful with his nephew, never resisting the opportunity to spend time with him, and Molly certainly hadn’t missed the way that his gaze turned wistful when he saw Molly with little Osborne. No, Roger would be a wonderful father when the time came, and Molly hoped that she would be just as a good a mother.

There was time enough for that though. A whole lifetime of love and exploration.

For now, Abyssinia awaited, and Molly couldn’t be more excited for the adventures that lay ahead at Roger’s side.

 


End file.
